


Show me the way out...

by ladymdc



Series: 606 | 707 [5]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: 707 | Choi Luciel's Route, Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Love 707 | Choi Luciel, Implied Sexual Content, MC is an OC, Not Canon Compliant, Self-Worth Issues, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 13:17:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17961269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/pseuds/ladymdc
Summary: “The path to finding the real me. A path where I’m not alone. I hope you are waiting for me at the end.”





	Show me the way out...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dismalzelenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dismalzelenka/gifts).



> A gift for the person whose actual fault it is for dragging me into MysMe hell. It's warm here & I like it despite all the crying, so I made you something. ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ~~even if this didn't turn out as cutesy as I wanted, bc my characters ALWAYS do what they want *annoyed Zen emoji* - I hope you like it~~
> 
> Also, by “not canon compliant” I mean I’m taking liberties with the timeline and details I felt were vague &/or plot hole-ish.

It had been eight days since Olivia last went for a run around the neighborhood. Earbuds in, music blasting. Her body thrummed with excess stress, and she wondered if Seven would concede to letting her go out to burn some of it off. 

Hell, maybe he would even want to join her.

It was clear Seven worked out regularly. He had lean, defined muscle and a build that would have made him a more than adequate backstroke swimmer in another life. She thought of the soft hairs just below his navel and the feel of his long, tapered fingers on her skin. Olivia would never get enough of him. Allowing her eyes to fall shut, she marveled at how time seemed to suspend in those moments. How they—

Before she could finish that thought, her phone pinged. An alert from the RFA app.

_ 17:45: [new chatroom] Sorry, Yoosung★ _

Reflexively, she glanced toward the bed even though Olivia knew she couldn’t see Seven due to the privacy screen. Still, her heart skipped a beat because he was finally awake. He had once told her, like cockroaches, hackers were nocturnal, but Seven had also been working practically non-stop even during the daytime hours.

Not too long after they had come together, Seven had fallen asleep. Olivia had stayed with him most of the day; content to nap, read on her phone or chat with the RFA members when they were available just to stay wrapped in his arms. At least until basic human necessities had gotten the better of her. Then she had snuck away to use the restroom and eat, and just before sundown had gone out onto the balcony to enjoy some fresh air. That was when Seven had snapped awake with a distressed shout. 

The panicked look on his face had hurt so much she could hardly breathe. Olivia had gone over, and Seven had grabbed her, crushed her against him just shy of a little too hard. Soon, he had been kissing her in the same vein, his heart beating rapidly against her. Seven had marked her, worshipped her, then told Olivia he was glad she was real as he slid inside her welcoming body.

Afterward, he had asked her to join him in the shower. Naturally, Olivia had obliged, eager to be close after the impossible distance he had maintained between them over the past week. Words had not been particularly necessary, so she didn’t speak; determined, yet again, to just  _ be there _ for him. Once he had eaten, however, Seven opened back up. Not about his nightmare, but his plan, and desire to take Olivia along. 

It would be dangerous, she knew, but family was important. Olivia missed hers, terribly, but they were gone. They couldn’t come back whereas the possibility existed for Seven. And maybe, just maybe, together, they could get through all of this; make a new home in the end. For her and Saeyoung. 

For Saeran. 

Smiling to herself, Olivia launched the app. 

_ —Olivia has entered the chatroom— _

_ [707] Hiya_

_ [707] Hey Hey_

The sight of Seven’s stupid pink cloud with its stupid yellow accents made Olivia far happier than it should have. Abandoning her task, she pulled a throw over herself and settled in to enjoy the conversation. 

_ [Olivia] That’s a very sudden change lol _

_ [707] I’m trying to be positive!_

_ [707]  **I have to be brave.**_

_ [707] I have something to say to the  **RFA Yoosung.**_

_ [707] and not the comet Yoosung._

_ [707] I was going to call him,_

_ [707] but the phone might be bugged…_

_ [707] so I wanted to say it here._

It was apparent what that was based on the chatroom title Seven had registered, but Olivia could not be confident he was actually concerned the phones were bugged. Still, he was trying, and she was happy to support him in even this. 

_ [Olivia] An apology? _

_ [707] You are correct! _

_ [707] I think I was very bad_

_ [707] to Yoosung earlier… _

_ [707] Since I live a life that’s completely void of human relationships. _

_ [707] sometimes the ‘other me’ pops out, _

_ [707] and that was just bad timing._

_ [707] I didn’t mean_

_ [707]  **to hurt him…**_

_ —Yoosung★ has entered the chatroom— _

Lines of text continued one after another in a pattern that was familiar and comforting. Olivia cataloged away infinitesimal clues about how Seven was handling everything. For example, the need to deflect highlighted how he felt about the chasm between how people saw him, how he wanted to be seen, and who he really was. An abyss too deep and too dark due to his particular past to safely explore alone. 

But Seven hadn’t really been alone.

It wasn’t until asking questions gave life to fear that he realized that. Which only begot more fear because Seven did not want anyone to get hurt because of him. The situation with the agency and Mint Eye should scare Olivia, and it did, but not in the way he had determined it should.

The memories of Seven pushing her away because he had been convinced he didn’t deserve to have anything private or meaningful were suddenly so close. She hopped up to go to him as soon as the chat ended, but her phone ringing gave her pause.

It was Seven.

Warm amber eyes, a direct gaze. A small smile playing at his lips. Her thumb ran along the side of his picture before accepting the call. 

“Kitty…” His voice, full and deep, always laughing yet subdued; a contradiction, like him, that held something powerful over her. Just as she knew her British cadence did the same to him. 

“Yes, my knight?” 

“I owe you an apology too. No— don’t interrupt,” Seven insisted before Olivia could in fact interrupt. He’d already done so the day before, but he must have felt it lacking. “Can you please be quiet and just listen? I need to get this out.”

There followed a pause Olivia didn’t attempt to fill, letting him know she’d do as asked. Then a sigh, and Seven said, “I thought, and I judged in my own terms, and I drew the line. I knew how hurt you’d feel, and I tricked myself into thinking that was best. I always hoped I’d never be remembered, but now I’m so afraid I’ll be forgotten… by you.”

“That won’t happen,” she told him. “I love you.” 

“Olivia…” he said quietly. “Hang up the phone and come to me. I want to whisper it in your ear.”

Seven was leaning against the headboard when she made it there. Bare-chested, save for his cross, and wearing red and black flannel pants, and a smirk. He still seemed tense, Olivia could understand why, but at least now it was softer around the edges. His fingers curled around hers and pulled her over toward him. 

He didn’t need to say anything for Olivia to know what it was. There was something bright and promising in his gaze. It made her feel like she was drowning. She was barely breathing, but he was so close she couldn’t help but breathe him in; something atmospheric and fresh and  _ free.  _

His body felt so good pressed against hers. He was so solid and real. All the things he didn’t associate with himself. Olivia reached out to touch him, and his muscles tightened under her fingertips. Then he brushed the pad of his thumb over the corner of her mouth and leaned close.

“I love you,” he breathed. “I love you so much that I want more of you even when you’re with me.”

Seven inhaled, brushed his lips across her ear, then exhaled. “I love that you smell like me. That you’re wearing my clothes. That you want to be mine.” 

Olivia spread her legs wider as he settled his weight more on top of her. “I’m glad you decided to accept me.”

“I had to. You have no idea how hard it was for me to conceal all this after learning you felt the same.”

“It wasn’t any easier for me to pretend I never said it.” 

Seven’s sigh was heartfelt, and then he was staring into the depths of her eyes. “I’ll spend my life making that up to you.”

“There’s no need,” she said, running her hand from his shoulder down to his cross. The metal was smooth and warm. “Just spending it with me will be good enough.”

“Deal, as long as we can have a small wedding at the space station,” he said, smirking. 

That dragged a laugh out of her. “The guests will have to risk their lives to attend. Sounds perfect.”

His smile curved a little wider. “You’re perfect.”

Olivia reached up, carded her fingers through his hair. Eyes closing, he hummed like he was pleased and leaned toward the touch, so she kept doing it. When she rose up to press her lips to his, Seven was gentle with it. There was no doubt that he was in control, not taking her lead, intent upon imparting nothing but affection. 

Until his hand snaked under her t-shirt. 

His thumb swiped along the side of her breast, making heat pool low in her belly and her toes curl in anticipation. Seven started to lift himself off her, briefly pulling at her lower lip with his teeth. 

But when he sat back on his heels, Seven froze. Then let out a sound that was part laugh, part dismay as his face turned  _ red. _

Olivia glanced down, felt herself smile. His black t-shirt was bunched up around her ribs, then there was the expanse of her stomach, and hanging off her hips was a pair of his boxers. They were white,  _ obscenely  _ soft, and covered with black hearts, lip prints, and… Betty Boop.

“You said I could wear whatever I wanted.” 

“Ya. But those were dirty! Give them back,” he demanded, grabbing at her hips.

Olivia squealed and wriggled out of his grasp. “I did laundry. It’s fine.”

“What?! No, that’s not fine! I said I would do it,” he said, trying to grab hold of her as she scrambled out of bed.

“I packed most of your stuff already too,” she managed around fits of laughter and ran into the kitchen. Behind her, something clattered to the ground, and Seven cussed, but she could hear him still moving her direction.

“I’m going to bite you if you keep being difficult,” he told her. 

“You were sleeping! I was just trying to help!”

“No, you were being stubborn. Like you  _ always  _ are. Come here, I really want to bite you,” Seven said, moving around the opposite side of the island in an attempt to head her off, but then he tripped. 

“Oh shit. Are you ok?” Olivia asked, barely holding back the laugh that was threatening to escape her throat. Without thought, she walked around the island to check on him. The split-second she rounded the corner, Seven grabbed on and yanked. 

Shrieking, she fell into his lap but was more than happy to be squashed against him. “Admit it, you just want to get me out of my pants.”

“They’re  _ my _ pants, and you know you want it too; why are you fighting me, kitty?” 

“Don’t sound so sad,” she said, shifting to straddle his thighs. “You’ll make me feel bad for teasing you.”

He gave her hair a gentle tug, granting him better access to her neck. The soft, satisfied grunt from his throat revealing he quite liked that level of control. Then Seven nipped and sucked a trail up her neck to her jaw. 

“You really like my throat,” she said.

“Yes. I like feeling the effect I have on you,” Seven whispered, pressing two fingers to the soft space above her collarbone to find her pulse there. “I like feeling like I’m real.” 

She sighed his name, his real one, the one she was afraid to use, and wrapped her arms around his neck. How long they sat like that, she didn’t know, and she didn’t care. Olivia had never been the type to pray, but for once she hoped there was a God and that he listened. She didn’t want him to die, and she didn’t want him to become a memory not to be forgotten. 

She wanted Saeyoung to remain on this earth so he could be more than just a little bit selfish. 


End file.
